


A Taurus Birthday

by DarkCyradis



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Comedy, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkCyradis/pseuds/DarkCyradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is in the air at Sanctuary, but it seems there's none for Aldebaran. On his birthday, the Zodiac's former black sheep, Aphrodite & Deathmask, decide it's time to take matters into their own hands to help him find true love! Various BL pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Lonesome Birthday?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Strausser](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Strausser).



> Disclaimer: Saint Seiya and all its lovely characters do not belong to me. This is just a fanwork for fun.
> 
> Notes: I've actually never written Aldebaran before, but this ended up being one of my favorite of my own fics to date—who knew he could be such a great muse? :D Dedicated to Strausser for inspiring this story (especially DM and Aphro's relationship and DM's tradition of cooking birthday dinners for the Goldies). Post-Hades/AU, no spoilers. Shounen-ai abounds.

May 8th. It was his birthday today, but Aldebaran felt little desire to celebrate.

With a small sigh, he gathered the thin, bunched up sheets covering his massive chest and pulled them aside, swinging his legs over the edge of the low, wide mattress. The floor was cold beneath his bare feet; Sanctuary in spring was balmy enough at night to sleep bare-chested, but the ancient stones never surrendered their lingering, early-morning chill, whatever the season.

Aldebaran made his way slowly to the modest niche that housed his washing basin and toiletries. Though the original architects or someone in the intervening centuries had equipped the bedchambers of every Gold Saint's temple with similarly rudimentary indoor plumbing, Aldebaran was one of the few who still made use of the creaky, old rigs and chamber pots. Most had let the weathered pipes rust in favor of using the fully-equipped modern bathrooms that the Graude Foundation had recently installed; Aphrodite, in fact, had gone so far as to turn the old piping and spigot in his lavish bedroom into a sort of rose-covered trellis and flower pot.

As the last of the lukewarm water made its gurgling way down the drainage pipes, Aldebaran examined his sopping face in the shard of mirror that hung over the basin. The constant weight of the Taurus Cloth's helmet left his hair looking perpetually limp, unhealthy and plastered to his head: _singularly uninspiring_ , he thought. It was of a fairly heroic length, but it never fanned out lushly to frame him like Saga's or Shaka's did, nor did it fall in beautiful curls like Aphrodite's or Milo's. It wasn't even a very interesting color: dull brown, barely a shade darker than his face. Added to the heavy jaw, crooked nose and flat cheeks of said face, his reflection returned one harsh and unequivocal verdict: he was ugly.

There are many in and out of Sanctuary who would have been appalled that such a thought should ever enter the noble warrior's mind. His physique, some would even argue, was the very pinnacle of what a Saint strove to achieve: massive and well-proportioned, with height and girth to stand proudly above any crowd of men, and covered to the last inch with bulging, rock-hard muscle. In a society of warriors whose only true guarantee to prosperity, fame and respectability lay in his battle prowess, many a struggling young man would have given every golden curl on his head for strength such as Aldebaran's.

But such arguments were lost on the Taurus Saint of late; as the chills of winter gave way to the blossoming warmth and renewing life of spring, Aldebaran had noted— at first with amusement, then increasingly with envy— that several of his comrades had come out of the long, cold season with more than just bones and muscle stiff from enforced inactivity. While he had spent the majority of the frosty winter entertaining himself with books, indoor exercises and an indulgent amount of napping, others had been keeping active enjoying and exploring new _romantic_ relationships with his fellows.

Camus and Milo. Aiolos and Saga. Deathmask and Aphrodite. That was half the Zodiac married off to one another, and Aldebaran almost expected to see Aiolia emerging triumphantly from the Virgo Temple in the early morning any day now.

 _What is causing this rush of romance suddenly?_ Aldebaran had found himself wondering fairly often these days. But really, he couldn't blame his friends; with the Holy War over at long last and peace come for good (to this generation, in any case), it was as though a dam had burst open. Years and years of wartime discipline and self-restraint had finally and summarily ended, leaving people charging forward to do all the things they had not been able to do before.

It wasn't that Saints had taken to bungee jumping or earning doctorates or any such thing—they were still sworn warriors of Athena, after all, and would live out their lives in her service. But the smaller things, little personal affects and desires that they had denied themselves in the past as being too petty for wartime, were perfectly permissible now. Surprisingly (or perhaps, not so surprisingly given the mortal terrors they had lived through), the first thing on many people's list was love.

 _And what about me?_ Aldebaran wondered as he dressed himself. _Am I wishing for love as well?_

He had never thought of himself as the romantic type; given the choice, he would have said "fighter" over "lover" ten times out of ten. But then, he would have said the same of Saga, Camus— _certainly_ Deathmask. And yet there he was, the Fiend of the Twelve Houses, strolling the flowering sculpture garden hand-in-hand with his beloved, or perhaps sitting in mellow ease under the shade of a dogwood tree, watching the bumbling, new trainees serenely rather than strutting around and terrorizing them per usual. If such a man as Deathmask could enjoy being in love to that degree, Aldebaran wondered if it wasn't for him as well.

 _But who would I ask, anyway?_ he thought with a sigh as he laced up his sandals. _There isn't a lady around for miles who would have a brute like me._

As for the gentlemen, Aldebaran couldn't imagine propositioning a lower-ranking Saint; with his size and status, he imagined even the most hesitant of youths would feel obligated to accept, or would perhaps do so with misguided hopes of currying favor. It was for just such a reason that mingling between the ranks was generally frowned upon at Sanctuary; the one exception was taking the official role of mentor or teacher for a lower-ranking Saint, but Aldebaran was very strict in his condemnation of teacher-student relationships.

Meaning, he would have only his fellow Gold Saints to look to, and he couldn't imagine his dearest friends and respected colleagues in such a way.

 _And again, who would have me?_ he thought. Most of them had already reserved one another anyhow, and it seemed that they were all quite serious about their relationships. In fact, Aldebaran had hardly seen any of the coupled Saints in the last several weeks since they had announced their various commitments. He had happened to make this observation to Roshi one day, and the older Saint had laughed his hearty laugh in response.

"Don't you worry about that!" he'd said, smacking the big Saint cheeringly on the shoulder. "It's just the honeymoon period, that's all. They'll come off it in no time and remember their old friends again—you just have to give them a few months!"

It had hardly been consoling to Aldebaran; not only was he finding himself excluded from the ranks of lovers—he could hardly find a friend to talk to anymore!

Thus, feeling a bit dejected and rather left out, Aldebaran forced the whole idea away into the back of his mind and put on the kettle to make his morning coffee. It was as he was settling down with a steaming mug of the instant variety that a small flare of cosmo coming from the back gates of the temple announced a visitor.

 _So early in the morning?_ Aldebaran thought. Surely it wasn't a birthday well-wisher come to see him? He decided it must just be Aiolia or Shura passing through on a morning jog and didn't bother getting up from the kitchen table to go greet them.

"Aldebaran! Aldebaraaaan! Geez, so inhospitable!" came a familiar grumpy voice from the threshold.

Aldebaran looked up in surprise from his coffee to find none other than the newly restyled "lover" of the House of Cancer making his way toward him. He was dressed in comfortable-looking civies and had a large, empty knapsack slung over one shoulder.

"Deathmask!" the Taurus Saint cried, standing quickly and going over to shake his friend's hand as though he hadn't seen him in years. "How good to see you!"

"Geez, do you do this to everyone who visits you?" Deathmask said as him arm was wrenched about in a vigorous shake.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Aldebaran asked eagerly. "Have you eaten? Would you like some coffee? Toast?"

"Bleh," Deathmask said, taking a whiff of the instant coffee his large friend proffered and waving it away. "You actually drink that stuff? There _is_ such a thing as a coffee maker, you know!"

Aldebaran laughed, placing the offending mug back down. "Oh, I don't mind it. And the kettle is handy if I want to make tea instead of coffee as well."

"You and Mu, I just don't get it with the tea stuff!" Deathmask snorted. "A fine, full-bodied, French-roasted blend with a pinch of sugar and a drop of cream—that's the stuff! How can you call yourself South American, anyway? Don't your people make some of the world's best coffee?"

"That's Colombia—I'm from Brazil, I'm afraid."

"That's as lame an excuse as I've heard!" Deathmask declared. "But anyway, I'm here on business."

"So early in the morning?" asked Aldebaran, taking a sip of his unfashionable coffee. "What is it?"

"Today," said Deathmask. "It's your birthday, remember? So what do you want on the menu for tonight?"

"Tonight…?" Aldebaran echoed.

"Yeah, tonight," Deathmask said. "Or didn't you think your birthday feast ought to be on the same day your birthday is?"

"Birthday feast?"

"Yeah, birthday feast—would ya stop repeating everything I say?" Deathmask ran a hand through his shock of blue hair and sighed exaggeratedly. "I know I used to make all those stupid cow jokes about you, but let me tell ya—you make it kinda easy sometimes!"

"I hadn't realized we were having a birthday feast for me," Aldebaran said, ignoring the remark. "Where will we get the food?"

"From me, of course!" Deathmask said proudly, and then patted a bulging money pouch at his waist. "With a charitable donation from the Pope. Geez, Aldebaran, hadn't you noticed that all us goldies have been having little birthday get-togethers this past year?"

"Well… yes, but…" Aldebaran trailed off, thinking he hadn't considered himself popular enough to merit one too.

"So stop acting like a scandalized virgin and just tell me what ya want me to cook tonight, already!" Deathmask was saying, when the presence of another cosmo suddenly made itself apparent from the temple entrance.

"Deathyyy! Deathyyy~~! Ahh, there you are, darling!" came a familiar voice.

They turned to find Aphrodite standing in the back entrance of the temple, looking radiant as usual with the golden rays of the rising sun framing him from behind.

"Dite!" Deathmask cried, his face spreading in a huge and unabashedly sappy grin. As Aldebaran looked on enviously, the lovely Pisces Saint threw himself into his lover's waiting arms and smothered him in a passionate greeting kiss.

"Good morning, darling," he said after pulling back from Deathmask's still-grinning lips.

"Good morning back at you," Deathmask said, gently lowering his lover to his feet again. "You're up early today."

"I wanted to go into town with you today so I got up extra early. But then, you left your temple even earlier than usual and I had to run to catch up!" He pouted quite winsomely.

"Sorry, Dite, I wanted to get an early start since I'm cooking Aldebaran's entire birthday dinner today."

"What?" Aphrodite cried, dropping his lover's hand and turning abruptly to face Aldebaran for the first time since he'd entered his temple. "Oh! Alde, I completely forgot! What a horrible friend I am!" He rushed over to the Taurus Saint and clasped one of his big, square hands in his own, gazing adorably up into his eyes. "Forgive me?"

"Oh, it's no problem at all, Aphrodite," Aldebaran said kindly, enjoying the sudden sweet, rosy scent filling the air around him. "I had nearly forgotten myself that today was my birthday."

"Oh, you poor dear," Aphrodite said, his eyes filling with dewy tears. "You're so humble and sweet and self-sacrificing—why, you probably weren't even expecting a party, were you?"

"Well…" Aldebaran said evasively. "I'm not much of the partying sort—"

"No, no, no," Aphrodite interrupted. "You can't have an attitude like that on your birthday! It's your very own special day once a year when you can be as selfish and demanding as you please and no one can say a thing about it!"

"Isn't that _every_ day for you then?" Deathmask asked with a teasing grin.

"Well of course I bully _you_ every day!" Aphrodite said with a huff. "You're my boyfriend, aren't you?"

"It must be nice to have someone," Aldebaran said, smiling a bit wistfully at them. "I can see how you would want to celebrate at every opportunity when you have someone you love to share it with you."

"Oh, that's so adorable of you, Alde!" cried Aphrodite.

Deathmask rubbed his nose, flushing a bit. "Aah, stop it. Yer making me blush."

"But wait," Aphrodite said, "is that why you think you don't deserve a birthday party? Because you don't have a special someone to share it with?"

Aldebaran made a vague gesture. "Well, I wouldn't feel right imposing on anyone else."

"But we're your friends!"

"It's still too much to ask."

Deathmask stared at him incredulously. "Who turns down a free meal? And on his birthday? Who cares if you're making me cook it, Aldebaran? I don't mind!"

"It's something else," Aphrodite interrupted, eyeing Aldebaran shrewdly. "It's really bothering you that you're single, isn't it?"

Aldebaran gave a slight shrug of his massive shoulders. "Well… I suppose I've gotten so used to my solitude here that a party seems—"

"I've got it!" Aphrodite cried, snapping his fingers. "If that's the problem, all we have to do is go and _find_ you a date for your birthday!"

"What?" both Aldebaran and Deathmask cried.

"You said yourself there's no point in celebrating when you're alone, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Well," Aphrodite interrupted, crossing his arms imperiously, "I, for one, will _never_ pass up a chance to eat one of Deathmask's fabulous birthday feasts—"

"Oh, Dite~~"

"Not, now, darling," Aphrodite said, pressing a finely manicured finger to his lover's lips and continuing without missing a beat. "—so what we need to do is get you in the mood to celebrate! When was the last time you got laid?"

"Aphrodite!" Aldebaran cried, his face flushing so fast he could almost feel steam shooting out of his ears.

"No, really, darling, this is a serious question."

"Well… Not… not in a while…" Aldebaran admitted, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

"I thought so," the Pisces Saint murmured thoughtfully. "Types like you and Mu and Dohko seem to get on all right for ages without having sex, but every man, even a Saint, has his limit."

"Saints are given to Athena and shall avoid entanglements of flesh and matrimony with mortal women," Aldebaran recited stiffly.

Deathmask snorted and even Aphrodite had to smother a giggle.

"Of course we will, Alde," he said soothingly. "But there's no rule against getting just a little 'tangled up' with a fellow Saint or two! In fact—" His eyes flickered appraisingly up Aldebaran and then onto Deathmask.

"Dite!" Deathmask cried, looking alarmed. "You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

"Now, shame on you!" Aphrodite admonished. "Wipe that look off your face—is that how you react to an offer of love from one of your dearest friends?"

"Wh-what?" Aldebaran gasped, finally catching on. "N-no, I couldn't—"

"Not you, too!" Aphrodite sighed, then turned back to Aldebaran, tossing his luxuriant hair over a shoulder. With his long, dark lashes lowered sultrily over his blue eyes, he leaned in close and murmured, "You know, _we_ wouldn't mind helping you out, Alde. We've always kept an open door policy."

"But I thought that was just so we could make Aiolia feel uncomfortable listening to us all night," a confused Deathmask interjected.

"Now, Alde," Aphrodite said, ignoring his lover and batting his eyelashes at Aldebaran, "what do you say? Two for the price of one, and no courting necessary! Would that make your birthday all better?"

"I-I—" Aldebaran stuttered. "N-no, I think—"

"What?" Deathmask asked, a hint of his old, malicious grin creeping onto his face. "Afraid we'll be too much for you to handle? Or _maybe_ —" his grin widened, "—you're afraid because you've never _been_ with a guy before? Is that it?"

"N-no! Of course not!" Aldebaran cried.

"Oh, no! You're a virgin?" Aphrodite exclaimed, looking genuinely stricken.

"No, that's not what I meant!" Aldebaran cried, waving his arms. "I'm not a virgin—and I'm _not_ afraid—" he added in Deathmask's direction. "And while I thank you for your generous offer, I simply couldn't intrude!"

"I still say you're chicken," Deathmask said with a chuckle.

"No, he's right," Aphrodite said thoughtfully. "What we need for Alde is something a little more sweet and pretty… Hmm…"

"It's a shame Mu's not here, huh?" Deathmask said to himself, also pondering.

Aldebaran suddenly felt a wave of sadness wash over him. It truly would have been nice to have his old friend here now to help him celebrate his birthday. As much as he appreciated these new efforts at friendship from the zodiac's former black sheep, he had to admit spending a birthday quietly with Mu and a cup of tea would have been perfectly satisfying—and likely much more comfortable.

But the Aries Saint had been absent from Sanctuary for a few months now, opting to continue his pupil's training in Jamir now that immediate danger had passed from Athena's stronghold.

"Yes, a real shame," Aphrodite had been murmuring. "That would have been a perfect match."

"What— _Mu?"_ Aldebaran cried, finally recalling what his fellows were contemplating.

"You don't like him?" Aphrodite asked, looking genuinely surprised. "I always thought you two got along so well."

"Of course I like him, Aphrodite, he's my dearest friend!" Aldebaran said. "But he's a friend. _A friend."_

"Wah ha ha, that's what Milo always used to say about Camus!" Deathmask said, smiling wickedly.

"But—"

"Oh, never mind, you two," Aphrodite said. "The point is, Mu's not here and we need to find someone who can be with Alde _today,_ on his special day." He snapped his fingers suddenly, eyes brightening. "I've got it! It's perfect—Shaka!"

"Shaka? Hey, yeah!" said Deathmask, his eyes lighting up as well. "Now that'll be fun!"

But Aldebaran was not having fun. He was turning several odd shades of purple.

 _"Sh-Shaka?"_ he managed to choke out.

"What? You don't think he's hot?" Deathmask snorted disbelievingly. "Don't even try to lie! Forbidden fruit as pretty as him-he's every Saint's secret wet dream."

"Yours, too?" his lover asked archly.

"Oh, er, of course not- I have you-"

"Not that I'd care, as long as you shared," Aphrodite said, cutting him off with a sudden grin and a little wink.

"Oh, Dite~~ You're the best~~—oof!" Deathmask crumpled to the floor gripping his midsection where Aphrodite had casually punched him to discourage the coming bear hug.

"Not now, darling," he said, patting the groaning Cancer Saint on the head consolingly. "We've got to focus."

"It... it's not that," Aldebaran said slowly, flushing red both from imagining his virtuous, golden-haired friend in such a capacity, and at the thought of Aphrodite's suggested threesome. "I... I think Aiolia might already be interested in him... I've seen him lingering around Shaka's temple quite a lot lately, so I think he's just trying to work up the courage to confess-"

"All the more reason to act now!" the Pisces Saint declared.

"But-"

"Oh, come on- all's fair in love and war and all that," Aphrodite said, waving off Aldebaran's protests. "Anyway, you said it yourself-he's still trying to figure out how to confess to Shaka, which means he hasn't actually done anything to stake his claim yet. In other words, Shaka's still on the market."

"But he has a point, Dite," Deathmask said, climbing painfully back to his feet. "How's Aldebaran going to confess to Shaka without getting shut down, crispy-fried or turned into a deaf-blind vegetable?"

"Don't worry about that," Aphrodite said, flashing them a mischievous grin. "I have just the perfect plan _—Operation Virgin Blitz!"_

"What?"

"Operation Virgin Blitz!" Aphrodite repeated, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Aphrodite…" Aldebaran began, wondering whether he should laugh or be worried. "Err… I can't even _imagine_ what that could mean."

"Yeah," Deathmask chimed in, looking as though he wanted to ridicule such a silly-sounding phrase but was unsure of how to go about it—resulting in a rather sour expression. "Please define."

"A 'blitz,' my dears," Aphrodite said matter-of-factly, " as in _blitzkrieg—_ a "lightning war," in German. As the name implies, it involves defeating a well-fortified enemy by using the element of surprise to hit him fast and hard like lightning striking. It's a fairly famous military term—I'm surprised you don't know it."

Aldebaran was nodding. "I've heard the term, but I've, er, never heard it applied to, well—love confessions."

"It's simple," his long-haired friend said. "We know that any straightforward proposition would immediately be refused by chaste-as-a-monk Shaka, right? So, we'll skip speaking to his mind and go straight to speaking to his _body_ by jumping him!"

" _What?"_

"Think about it," Aphrodite pressed. "His mind and soul may be that of a Buddha or an ascetic or something, but his body is that of a virile, 20-year-old man! So, the only way to succeed is to speak directly to his body, if you know what I mean."

Aldebaran could almost feel his face burning to ashes. Deathmask, however, was smacking his lover appreciatively on the shoulder.

"Man, Dite, you really know how this stuff works! That's such a good idea!"

But Aldebaran was not convinced. "You…you don't mean _literally_ jump him?"

"Yep! In fact, jumping _on_ him would probably be best—there's nothing like the sensation of being flat on your back to make you feel disarmed and exposed."

Deathmask giggled perversely and Aldebaran geared up for the protest of his life as all the blood in his body rushed up to his face. But Aphrodite was ready for this and, catching the big saint unawares, shoved him hard enough to send him toppling back onto his chair. Quick as a wink, he was leaning in close over his prey, his aquamarine eyes ramped up to their most smoldering, hypnotic intensity, and Aldebaran suddenly understood that the almost outrageous tallies of sexual conquests popularly attributed to Aphrodite were in all likelihood quite accurate.

As though reading his thoughts, Aphrodite leaned closer and said huskily, "I'm not named for the Goddess of Love for nothing, you know? Just give it a try, Alde. I promise, it will be perfect."

Aldebaran sighed in defeat. "All right, Aphrodite," he conceded. "Operation Virgin Blitz it is."

 


	2. Operation Virgin Blitz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against his better judgment, Aldebaran allows himself to go forward with Aphrodite's crazy "Operation Virgin Blitz."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Saint Seiya and all its lovely characters do not belong to me. This is just a fanwork for fun.
> 
> Notes: Here's one for the Shaka fans! :D Post-Hades/AU, no spoilers. A little bit of risqué-ness here, so we'll say this chapter is PG-13.

The operation, it turned out, was rather simpler in theory than Aldebaran had anticipated.

"So all I have to do is sneak into Shaka's temple while he's bathing, then wait to ambush him after he gets out?" he asked Aphrodite as the latter tied his long, shining locks back in preparation for their stealthy mission. "That doesn't sound so complicated."

"Darling, it's not complicated at _all,"_ said Aphrodite. "Love is the simplest thing in the universe—and _lust_ even more so!"

"But are you sure it'll work?" Aldebaran asked for the umpteenth time. "What if he manages to attack me before I get to him?"

"Tsk, tsk," said his friend, waving off his fears. "Have a little faith in yourself, Aldebaran! And anyway, why should Shaka be on the defensive? We're not currently at war with anyone, Athena herself is in residence at Sanctuary, and Shaka knows that there are five temples guarded by big, strong Goldies below him that can repel anything that comes crawling in—or at least hold them off until someone alerts him. He won't be expecting anything!"

"Well, fine," Aldebaran conceded. "But why do we have to attack him while he's bathing? Isn't that rather… well, unsportsmanly?"

Aphrodite sighed. "Oh, Alde, you're being tiresome now. I explained that the point of Operation Virgin Blitz is to introduce as sexually suggestive a situation as possible to Shaka's body as unexpectedly as possible, didn't I? Having him naked and relaxed after a bath will only help that!"

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Aldebaran groaned again, covering his face in his big hands.

At just that moment, Deathmask came scuttling back into the temple.

"He's in the bath!" he hissed, his cheeks flushed from more than just his hustle back to the Cancer Temple, Aldebaran guessed.

"All right!" Aphrodite said, giving Aldebaran a hearty smack on the arm. "This is it, darling. When I give the word, you've got to throw every last shred of passion and urgency you can muster at him, all right?"

"But—"

"No buts!" his companions said at the same moment. They each seized a massive arm and began dragging the Taurus Saint bodily out the back entrance of the temple. Aldebaran could think of nothing to do but allow himself to be dragged.

They found Leo Temple thankfully empty passing through; Aiolia habitually spent his mornings out on the training grounds, training alongside awestruck new trainees and the odd Bronze Saint or two. He had a reputation for being the most accessible of the Gold Saints and was very popular with the younger inhabitants of Sanctuary.

For his part, Aiolia seemed to take the "role model" part of being a top-ranked saint quite seriously, never missing a day, rain or shine, like the young cadets who were forced outside in all weather to "build endurance and character" according to brutal saint-in-training tradition. When Aldebaran had asked him once out of curiosity why he trained side by side with the cadets (the nicer rear training grounds were reserved for Gold and Silver Saints in the afternoons), Aiolia had grinned that boyish grin of his and explained that he made it a point to show the trainees that even Gold Saints must continually improve and hone their skills, and that he wanted to encourage them to persevere through the harsh early days of training with the reminder of what greatness could lay ahead.

"And also for myself," he'd added, "so that I won't forget where I started, and the fact that one of those tiny kids out there may someday grow to stand where you and I stand now."

It was such a sappy, romantic sort of answer—the kind a schoolboy infused with youthful romance and idealism would give. But the rub of it was Aldebaran knew Aiolia meant every word of it. _The perfect boy hero_ , he'd thought, and had had to smile fondly. He really liked Aiolia—always had, even during all the scandal over his brother and that stint of insubordination against the Pope (perfectly justified, everyone realized now, after the fact).

Reflecting on all of that now, Aldebaran felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he was effectively swooping in and stealing—on a mere amorous whim—the object of Aiolia's undisguised affections for at least the last year. He could well imagine the look that would be on poor, earnest Aiolia's face when he strolled into the birthday feast tonight with the sinuous Shaka on his arm. Aiolia was too decent a man and too strong a believer in the sanctity of friendship to put up any kind of a protest; he would do the honorable thing instead and attempt to quietly bury his feelings, all the while berating himself as a coward and tormenting himself for not acting sooner.

 _This really isn't a good idea…_ Aldebaran thought again and turned a glance at Aphrodite to see if he could attempt another plea to cease and desist. But before he could speak, Aphrodite flashed his dazzling smile of perfect confidence at him again and said, "Here we are!"

Aldebaran looked up and realized that they had indeed arrived at the towering gates of Virgo Temple. Deathmask had scampered lightly down the left side of the front portico and was gesturing for them to follow him around the corner.

"It's back here," he muttered, keeping his voice and cosmo muted now that they were in "hearing range" of Shaka. Aldebaran quickly masked his cosmo as well. They were standing up against a long stone wall covered thickly with pale green moss and curly tendrils of morning glory vines. Deathmask waved them forward to a low stone door cut into the sandy-colored wall.

"A backdoor to his garden," Deathmask explained. "His bathing pool is just a little ways down on the other side, so keep low to the ground as soon as you're on the other side."

The other two nodded and Aphrodite gave Aldebaran a quick, heartening thump on the shoulder.

"Now, don't be nervous, Alde," he whispered. "This is going to be the start of the happiest time of your life!"

"Yeah," Deathmask chimed in, throwing a rare, real smile over his shoulder as he carefully unbolted the door. "Bein' in love is the greatest thing ever."

The odd sincerity of his sentiment touched Aldebaran, and for a moment, it seemed that this strange quest to bring love—not only to himself, but to the coldly aloof Shaka—was not so bad an idea. Using the momentary burst of resolve, Aldebaran pulled the door firmly open and began slinking as quietly as possible into the garden at a crouch.

Rumor of Shaka's mystical garden of natural wonders was widespread throughout Sanctuary, but few had ever actually seen it with their own eyes. Aldebaran had had a peek at it through the massive stone doors that led into it from Virgo Temple, but this was the first time he'd been inside of it. It was truly a paradise—a veritable Elysian Fields with rolling expanses of inviting green grass blowing softly on some mysterious, fragrant breeze. It was framed on all sides by copses of flowering trees, and there were blossoms of every imaginable color, lush and ardently in bloom, in every corner of the place. White butterflies flitted here and there like whimsical flower petals caught on an erratic wind. In the center of it all stood a wide, marble-paved pool of clear water, fed on one side by a glistening stream of water pouring from the carved mouth of a stone carp.

"It's…so beautiful…!" Aldebaran gasped, pausing behind a neat row of low shrubbery to take it all in.

"Ohh, you bet it is!" Deathmask muttered. The edge in his voice made Aldebaran turn to follow his gaze, and suddenly, all the flowers and butterflies and trees in the world didn't seem to matter anymore.

He was there; Shaka stood in the middle of the immaculate pool, his back to the three conspirators as he worked a small bar of soap into a lather on a damp washcloth. Aldebaran could feel his anxieties and doubts come rushing back a hundredfold, but they seemed fainter now, as though coming from a long way off as his eyes took in the scene.

Shaka was truly a vision. Standing in his natural splendor without the least trace of self-consciousness, seeming to draw the golden light of the day and the dazzling water around him to his person, he may well have been a god.

But nothing of holy perfection should have incited the kind of desire Shaka's unclothed form did, Aldebaran thought as he watched him. His golden hair, weighed down with the weight of the water, streamed sleekly down the slender contours of his back and fanned out in a dazzling pool at his waist where it met the water's surface. A milky, smooth shoulder; shapely arms; sculpted, delicate chin and jaw line; long, dark lashes peeking out from beyond a creamy cheek—Aldebaran wanted desperately to look away and end what was surely a crime of the most blasphemous proportions but simply couldn't muster the willpower to do so.

Even as he continued to stare helplessly, some part of him babbled that any moment now, a bolt of lightning would surely split the clear sky and strike him dead with eyes still stupidly agog. Or perhaps more realistically, Shaka—with his superhuman powers and intuition—would turn any second now and send him plunging straight into Hell with a casual _Tenma Koufuku_. It would be well-deserved, the rational (and currently utterly ignored) side of his mind thought idly.

But no, Shaka continued serenely scrubbing his arm with the soapy washcloth, quite oblivious to his bath-time companions.

 _All right, Aldebaran,_ the Taurus Saint said to himself bracingly, _he's fantastically beautiful, but this is your old friend Shaka. Your very powerful, manly, intelligent, certainly-not-a-sex-object old friend Shaka. You don't want to disrespect him by peeping at him like this, do you? No, you should look away—look away right now and tell Aphrodite this whole scheme is ridiculous. Shaka will not thank you for intruding while he's trying to have a nice bath. In fact, Shaka will likely turn you into a smoking pile of ashes for intruding on his nice bath. At the least, he will never speak to you again. You must look away right now._

And it was working, too—Aldebaran had really just about rationalized himself into tapping Aphrodite's shoulder and whispering, "Let's just call this off." But then, Shaka drew his heavy curtain of hair aside to scrub the nape of his neck, and Aldebaran's will crumbled. There was hardly a coherent thought left in his head as his eyes took in the horrendously pleasing and suggestive shapes and colors of Shaka's lower half. They were somewhat distorted by the water's refraction, but still entirely too enticing. Aldebaran gave in and let his eyes roam at will—never mind that this was a person he knew and respected and would have a rather difficult time beating in a fight to the death. The urge to grab hold of that succulent skin, to press that supple body and smell that shining hair was suddenly overpowering, narrowing the big Saint's thoughts and vision to this one, consuming desire.

An honest man through and through, the direction of Aldebaran's thoughts was quite clearly readable on his rapt face and Aphrodite (less effected than the others, being in possession of a comparable masculine beauty himself) elbowed his lover to point out their protégé's gameness.

"It's going to work!" he hissed gleefully. "Alde's all ready!"

"Then let's get him to it!" Deathmask whispered back. The two took their positions on either side of the big Saint and prepared to thrust him out toward his target.

Unfortunately, at just that moment, due to the unspeakably coincidental flap of a butterfly's wing some hours ago somewhere in the vicinity of Crete, pointed in just the right northeasterly direction, a small breeze bearing the scent of jasmine came swooshing through the garden. The breeze had caught that faint, sweet scent as it had swept through the vacant Aries Temple where the flower grew in twining clumps about the back portico, and this had the remedial effect of reminding the twitterpated Taurus Saint's subconscious of its pink-haired inhabitant. Aldebaran's eyes cleared.

"What am I doing?" he gasped.

With every last shred of willpower at his command, Aldebaran wrenched his eyes away from the enchanting vision and forced himself to look at his blue-haired companion.

"Aphrodite, we have to go now," he hissed.

"Oh, not that again!" Aphrodite whispered. "I explained why you need to make your move on Shaka while he's naked and vulnerable, right?"

"But it's wrong," Aldebaran insisted, ignoring the half of him that was still insisting Aphrodite's plan was very, very right and ought to be encouraged.

They glared unblinkingly at each other, willing the other to break down, while Deathmask continued his (not entirely altruistic) vigil of Shaka. The Virgo Saint had finished rinsing himself, it seemed, and was wading toward the far side of the pool with his bath things in tow.

"Hey, guys," Deathmask whispered, "whatever you do, you'd better do it soon. Shaka's getting out of the bath."

"Come on, Aldebaran!" Aphrodite whispered, flapping his arms insistently. "You have to do it now or you'll be lonely on your birthday—again!"

"I don't care," Aldebaran said stubbornly. "I'm not going to jump Shaka. It wouldn't be right!"

"Nice guys _always_ finish _last!"_ Aphrodite hissed. "Do you want Shaka or not?"

"I do, but I'll approach him the proper way!"

"What, with flowers and chocolates? Do you think Shaka even _eats_ chocolate?"

"Shh! Guys, he's gonna hear you!" Deathmask hissed at them. He glanced back at his mark only to find Shaka (already wrapped in a white robe) standing very still, his head turned in their general direction, though his eyes were still closed. Deathmask dived on his two companions, burying all three of their faces in the dirt behind their shrub.

"He's looking our way," Deathmask mouthed frantically.

"Shoot, we'll blow our chances permanently if we don't have the element of surprise," Aphrodite whispered.

"No, it's too late," Aldebaran whispered back. "He knows we're here. I…I should go apologize to him and accept whatever punishment he—"

"Don't even think about it!" Aphrodite snapped. "Not only will you never have a chance with him, he'll _Tenbu Hourin_ you to Cocytus and back!"

"It's just what I deserve. I'm going to come clean, beg for his forgiveness, and tell him honestly what I feel," Aldebaran said, resolved. "And even if he forgives me, I will deny myself. I don't have the right to love someone like Shaka!"

"You delirious fool!" Aphrodite wailed (in a whisper). "Don't you—"

"Sorry, Aphrodite, but I've made my decision," Aldebaran said solemnly. Seeing that his big friend's mind was made up, Aphrodite closed his mouth and fell back in a sullen sulk.

 _There, then,_ thought Aldebaran, _now all that remains is to apologize to Shaka._ It would not be pleasant, he was sure, and infinitely humiliating. But once he was resolved, the Taurus Saint did not back down. He squared his shoulders and made to rise.

But just then, there was a sudden shout, sounds of a brief scuffle and a flurry of footsteps coming from the direction of the Virgo Temple's interior. With an almighty slam, Aiolia came bursting through the doors, bounded down the steps and all but hurled himself at the half-turning Shaka, knocking them both to the ground.

"What the?" Deathmask cried as all three of the hidden conspirators stood to get a better view from behind their bush.

They heard Shaka saying in a calm but slightly disoriented voice, "Aiolia, what is-"

"Shaka!" Aiolia cried, sounding stricken. "I-I-" He took in his surroundings quickly, glancing last at the person lying calmly beneath him, limbs still lying splayed and robe disheveled, where Aiolia's collision had landed them. Here, his gaze slowed and steadied but seemed to retain some of its wild-eyedness.

"Oh my goddess, he's finally snapped," Aldebaran muttered under his breath.

"This is bad for us," Aphrodite muttered back.

"Ha, don't worry about it," Deathmask snorted, trying unsuccessfully to hide his glee. "Mr. Goody-goody Aiolia? He'll never have the balls to carry through. Just watch—he'll be groveling for forgiveness before Holy Shaka-sama the second his brain realizes what he's done."

Aldebaran rather agreed with this prognosis and waited expectantly as Aiolia finally raised his eyes to look into the Virgo Saint's face.

"Now, grovel!" a gleeful Deathmask said under his breath, and the onlookers watched attentively for Aiolia to begin panicking.

And panic he did. However, rather than leaping to his feet and apologizing profusely as expected, Aiolia suddenly gripped the blonde's shoulders, squeezed his eyes shut and, screaming, "I LOVE YOU!" clamped his lips down on Shaka's slightly-parted ones.

"Ohh..." Aldebaran breathed.

"What?" Deathmask cried.

"Noooo!" Aphrodite shrieked.

"He's so dead..." came a dejected voice from beside them. All three conspirators started in surprise. They had unconsciously stepped out from behind the hedgerow to watch the spectacle and were so engrossed that they hadn't noticed Aiolos walk up forlornly beside them to watch what were certainly his little brother's final moments on this earth.

"Aiolos!"

"I tried to stop him..." the Sagittarius Saint intoned sadly. "I told him Shaka would raze his Sala trees to the ground before he'd ever fall for him, but he wouldn't listen to me, the lovesick fool. Now all I can do is gather his charred remains and give them an honorable burial..."

"There, there," Aldebaran said, patting the disconsolate Saint's shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sure your brother will survive somehow..."

"He... he's not even wearing his Cloth… There'll probably be nothing left!" Aiolos wailed suddenly as big, dollopy tears came streaming down his cheeks. He produced a large, green handkerchief and buried his face in it, sobbing. "Against all odds, I'll end up outliving my little brother...! I've failed as an older sibling-"

"Oh, shut up and open your eyes, you big crybaby," Aphrodite snapped. At that, his three companions snapped to attention and turned back to the forgotten pair. All three of their mouths dropped open in perfect unison.

"Operation Virgin Blitz," Aphrodite declared flatly, "a complete success."

Indeed, Aiolia was neither dead nor in the process of being slaughtered. He was rather happily engaging Shaka's mouth in a heated kiss as his hands roamed over all manner of exposed body parts. For his part, Shaka looked as far from divinely murderous as any of the party had ever seen with his pale cheeks flushed sweetly and his golden hair spilling all around them, tossing to and fro as he returned Aiolia's kisses with surprising eagerness. They were both entirely oblivious to their uninvited audience.

"Well," Aphrodite said simply, "I told you so."

* * *

It's been a while since I started this fic (it's been up on my account on fanfiction.net for a while), but there is still one chapter left that I'm working on! ;0 Please review and let me know if you're enjoying so far!


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